Mandos's Embrace Continuation

Chapter Sixteen

Glorfindel awoke to find Azalea curled up next to him, eyes still glazed over in reverie. He glanced over their limbs and smiled, there was no way to untangle himself without waking her. She had a rather rough night and the peaceful sleep would refresh her for what lay ahead. He could understand what she was going through from a rather unique perspective. He had suffered rather vivid nightmares for several years after his return to Arda about his death. They had subsided along with the rebirth disorientation. Elrond had been instrumental in helping him reclaim himself.

He took a deep breath and almost choked. Something rather unpleasant wafted in on the air. Unpleasant, but familiar. He knew that sickening smell! He heard the door to the talan open and the smell grew stronger. Ah now he knew! Elrond's morning-after brew; the Peredhel had forced it on him several times, and more than once he had also found the twins sitting in the Hall of Fire staring balefully at the odious substance as well.

Círdan walked past the open doorway, holding a steaming mug at arm's length and muttering. "...Has to be kidding....smells like Orc feet....probably going to make me feel worse....." He was slightly green. Glorfindel smiled and shook his head. Soon he watched the Mirkwood elf stalk past again holding a no longer steaming mug and grimacing. He had to admit, he rather liked Azalea's brother.

On the third trip by the door, he cleared his throat to catch the elf's attention. Círdan froze and poked his head around the corner, raising his eyebrow questioningly. He glanced at the sleeping form in his arms and turned back to Círdan, hoping he did not have to speak to convey his question. The archer frowned for a second, and his heart sank, but soon Círdan had approached his side of the bed and placed a small container of salve next to him on the table.

Leaning in so he could whisper, so not to wake his sister, Círdan gave him the instructions he wanted. "Let her sleep until she wakes on her own, then take her to the baths. I want you to scrub her back thouroghly, until the skin is pink. Then rub this on her back. It will soothe, soften, and slightly numb her skin. I have to prepare my inks and needles. Make sure you rub that on generously before you leave the baths to return, it will give it time to take effect."

Glorfindel nodded slightly, and with a slight smile the archer left to make his own preparations.

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Azalea woke nearly an hour later and smiled at the azure eyes staring back at her. "Good morning, maethoren. I slept very soundly. How about you?"

She moaned as he gave his answer as a firm, passionate kiss. "I am pleased to hear that, lirimaer. Are you ready for the day? Your brother brought in a breakfast tray a few moments ago, assuming you'd be hungry when you woke."

Azalea sat up and gave a languid stretch. "I am as ready as I can be.I cannot say that I am not nervous, but it is not the pain that worries me. If this doesn't work I am out of options, and it may be that I may never find peace from my nightmares." She paused picking up a strawberry and suckling it. "Who knows? I must have hope. Never was one to despair." With a firm nod, she turned to Glorfindel, who had been staring at her intently.

"I agree. We must hope that this works. I trust Thranduil's advice. He has been right enough times to make him arrogant, so he must have some knowledge."

"I heard that!" Círdan's voice echoed through the talan.

Glorfindel bit his lip and chuckled silently. Azalea looked at her tray and back at him. "Are you not going to eat?"

"Nay, Elrond and I are meeting for breakfast after I tend to you this morning."

She swallowed a mouthful of berries and lembas. "Oh. Tend to me in what way?"

"Círdan asked me to prepare your skin for his ministrations. After you have completed your meal we are to down to the baths and I need to wash your back and apply a salve to it."

"Ah, I see." Returning to her breakfast, she finished it swiftly and set the tray aside. She rose from the bed and began to dress. Pulling on black leggings, a loose, soft grey tunic, and her dwarven boots, she turned to find Glorfindel dressed as well. "I should pull my braids up as well." Turning, she stared in the mirror. "What on Arda made me consent to this? If this does not work, I will bear the marks of failure all my days."

She started as strong arms wrapped around her waist. "You must not give up, lirimaer. Remember what you said earlier, you are not one to despair, so then do not. Trust your brother. If he did not think this would help, he would not have suggested it."

"You're right." Her resolve steeled. "I am not afraid. I am a warrior. I do not despair. I am a Galadhrim." She nodded and picked up a pair of polished obsidian sticks. Twining her braids into a knot at the back of her head, she wove the two sticks into them to hold the knot in place.

Glorfindel had stepped away and now offered her his arm. She slipped her own into his grasp and let him lead her out into the main room where Círdan sat mixing his ink. A frown crossed her face at the sight of what appeared to be porous black stones. He was grinding them into a fine powder.

The Mirkwood elf glanced up and smiled at her. "I see you finally decided to grace us with your fully coherent presence."

She did the only thing any self respecting little sister could do....stuck her tongue out at him.

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Glorfindel laughed all the way to the baths. He could not belive he had just seen her do that! Most Elflings grew out of that by twelve, yet he had just witnessed a fully-grown Galadhrim Warden stick her tongue out at her elder brother.

Outside the tent, Azalea stopped. She stared at him for a moment before shrugging. "He deserved it." With that she turned and headed inside. He stood rooted to the spot for a second before breaking out in another rush of mirth and followed her inside.

The pool was wonderfully empty for the time being. Tendrils of steam rose from the heated water and piles of freshly cleaned towels and robes stood prepared for the day. Along a low table were assorted cleansing sands, scented oils, and a basket of flower petals. Pulling the small pot of salve out of his pocket, he placed it down on the table. He picked up a small satchel of lavender scented sand and turned to join Azalea, who was already slipping into the water.

He was grateful she was not looking at him. Being caught with one's mouth open is never becoming. His clothing soon joined her's on the ground and he slid into the pool as well. Taking a moment, his eyes glanced over her form. Well-toned mucles, from centuries of weapons training and service to the Wood, played gracefully as she positioned herself on her knees on one of the benches. She folded her arms on the rim and rested her head on them.

"This position work?"

"Aye, lirimaer. I was given explicit instructions to scrub until your skin is rosy, but if it becomes uncomfortable, do not hesitate to tell me." He placed the satchel of sand next to her resting arms as she gave him a nod.

Glorfindel frowned, being fully confronted with her scars again. He wet his hands and ran them over her back gently. She shivered under his touch and moaned softly. "Do they hurt?"

"No. They only bother me when I have the nightmares, and the effect is short-lived." She shifted slightly. "Do continue. I love it when you touch me."

He grinned and resumed drizzling water onto her back and rubbing her until she seemed quite boneless beneath his ministrations. Picking up the satchel of sand, he poured a generous amount into his hand, wet it, then smoothed it onto her skin. The blond turned as he heard the flap to the tent open and soft footsteps enter.

"Oh. I didn't realize anyone would be in here. I can go if you would prefer your privacy." Haldir offered. He had been up training with the archers since dawn.

" 'S alright, Haldir." Azalea murmured. Glorfindel nodded as well.

"There is plenty of water and room. You may join us."

The marchwarden nodded and soon joined them, sighing contentedly as the warm water eased his tingling muscles. It was nothing to share a bath with mixed company. Concepts such as segregation of the sexes were foreign to the Firstborn when it came to bathing. They were all the Children of Illuvatar and should rejoice in the forms given them, not shy away. They were all well past majority anyhow, not shy Elfings.

Glorfindel settled back into scrubbing Azalea's skin. "How's the training going Haldir?"

"Better than I hoped. We have several very promising archers in the group, as well as a couple skilled in the martial arts."

Azalea snorted softly. "We will see when the trials come. Then give them a decade or so at the fence rotations. That will be the true test of their skill and willingness to join our ranks."

Haldir grinned. "Always the optomist, aren't you?" Hazel eyes glanced at what Glorfindel was doing. An eyebrow arched up in question.

Glorfindel smiled slightly and rinsed the sand from her back. The skin was smooth, and very slightly rosy. He frowned and set to work a second time, just to be sure.

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Azalea had opened her eyes and watched Haldir's expressions. He grimaced slightly when the sand was washed from her back. She could tell the sight had disturbed him. Although they had bathed together before, she mostly kept her braids down over them. He had been on duty when the dwarves brought her to the border. He had taken it upon himself personally to get her to Celeborn and the Healers.

Having seen the gruesome mess she was in, he'd later told her he had been scared she wouldn't live, or be horribly crippled. Instead she had recovered and soon joined the wardens under his command. She knew how uncomfortable he was with her scarring, and tried to keep it from him as often as she could. The last time he had seen them in their full glory had been when he had come home a little too early to the talan he shared with his brothers.

She and Rumil had been in a rather compromising situation. Namely, she was atop him while he wriggled in wanton need, trying to increase the pace she had set for their lovemaking. She had caught his face in the mirror set behind the headbord of the bed. With a purposeful rock of her hips, she felt Rumil tense and find release with a cry.He had turned a fierce shade of red and hadn't been able to look her in the eyes for a week. To this day she was unsure if Rumil even knew about the event.

Breaking the silence, she addressed Haldir. "Círdan may have come up with something to help with my nightmares. He and King Thranduil came up with an idea to tattoo a ward onto my back, so Glorfindel is perparing my skin to receive the needle."

Glorfindel gave a nod. "If it works the nightmares will fade in their intensity and she may learn to block them entirely."

"That is good news indeed. You are one of my most trusted lieutenants. I need you healthy." Haldir began to scrub his own skin clean with his favorite sandalwood cleansing sand. "I do have something to ask you."

Azalea nodded for him to continue. "Ask me anything."

"Would you help me conduct the warden trials this year as you will be in the city for them?"

She beamed at him. "Of course. I would be honored to help with the initiates. What would you have me do?"

"I was thinking unarmed combat trials. While your hammer makes you stand out, it could injure an inexperienced initiate, even with the padding."

She nodded. "I understand and accept, Marchwarden Haldir."

"Good."

"Same here." Glorfindel had rinsed her again and seemed pleased with the now bright rosy hue of her skin.

The three of them climbed from the pool and dried off. "Aiya." She shivered as Glorfindel applied the salve to her skin. "That's cold..and it tingles."

"Círdan said it will soften and numb your skin making you able to sit for a longer session. Do you wish for me to remain with you during it?" She could feel it working already. His caresses became fainter.

"No. This is something I must face. It will take many hours to complete from what my brother says. Go enjoy your day. I will see you for the evening meal."

"Are you sure?"

She kissed him soundly. "Aye, go have fun today. I will be just fine, I trust Círdan to take good care of me."

She wrapped a robe loosely about herself and stepped from the tent, prepared to do what had to be done.

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Glorfindel watched her go, then turned to Haldir, who had changed into a fresh uniform. "Do you have any plans for the day?"

"No, I do not."

"Elrond invited me to share a late breakfast with him. Would you care to join us?"

He nodded. "I would be honored."

Together they stepped from the tent into the warm morning sunshine. Summer was fully upon Lorien and the towering mallorns swayed with a soft breeze, greedily soaking up Arien's rays. They walked in companionable silence. A muffled yelp from around a bend in the path followed by a 'By the Valar!' and a 'Sweet Eru this is bad...' made them pick up their pace. As they rounded the corner, they spied five rather shocked faces. Legolas was pale, Elladan and Elrohir seemed to tremble, and Rumil and Orophin were looking up in horror.

"What have you five done?" Haldir sighed in exasperation. Only here a day and already in serious mischeif. This time it looked as if their trouble-making had finally caught up with them.

Legolas gulped and merely pointed upward. Glorfindel and Haldir warily raised their eyes. An elf hung rather uncerimoniously snared in a rope, dangling from his ankle, and covered in honey and mallorn leaves.

Glorfindel groaned. "Oh dear.....Elrond. You five had better run before we let him down." The Peredhel was more than unimpressed.